I can speak French. I can say "Paris".

Last Friday I went to Paris on the Eurostar with work. I'd never been before, and wasn't quite sure what to expect, but by the time I was heading back two days later I'd had a fantastic time and was sure I'd soon be back again for more.

We went wine tasting at Ô Chateau. We had a group photo taken in Parc du Champs de Mars. We wandered over to the Arc de Triomphe via the Palais de Chaillot (aka Trocadero). We had some expensive beers at Vesuvio Cafe on Champs Elysées. We played some pool at Clichy Montmartre. We went for drinks at L'Atelier Renault. We went dancing at Nirvana Lounge. We ate at 4am in Pizza Pino (thanks for paying, Keith). We went back to our hotel.

The next day, after a lie in to counteract the hangover, we made it as far as the entrace to the Louvre, then took a trip up the Siene on the Batobus. Then it was up to the top of the Eiffel Tower for some amazing views. We had a nice dinner at Le Saint M' in Cour Saint-Emilion. We saw some Scotsmen in kilts dancing around on an hot air vent surrounded by people taking photos (well, they had just lost the rugby). We spent several hours drinking and singing at Chez Eugene. We went clubbing until 6:30am at Elysée Montmartre. We had kebabs. We had 3 hours sleep, and made it in time to catch the train home.